


Truth From a Crossbow

by abaikgirl



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Grunkle4Grandpa, Light Angst, Minor Injuries, Pines Family Bonding, Post-Episode: s02e14 The Stanchurian Candidate, stan pines is a good dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26931121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abaikgirl/pseuds/abaikgirl
Summary: In a heated argument with his brother, Stan is forced to reveal his most well-kept secret to the rest of the family, leading to many unexpected consequences, including a very hurt Soos. Grunkle4Grandpa centric. Written for lawchan89 on tumblr back in 2016.
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Ford Pines & Mabel Pines & Stan Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez & Stan Pines
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Gravity Falls fanfiction, in 2020? Actually this is an old fic that I originally posted on tumblr and I'm posting here on Ao3 so I can keep track of all my fanfiction. Yes this is G4G, no I won't apologize for writing it.

Stan was used to bad starts. He could make the argument that his entire life was one continuous string of bad starts from his birth of fifteen minutes behind his twin to the long string of crimes that followed him from New Jersey to Oregon. 

But of all his bad starts, getting hit in the arm by an arrow from Mabel’s crossbow before he even had his first cup of coffee definitely took the cake. 

“Oh my gosh, Grunkle Stan! Are you ok?” Mabel’s little voice trembled with fear as she dropped her weapon to the ground and ran over to him. 

Dipper trailed close behind her. “Mabel, I told you to be careful with that thing,” he scolded.

“I didn’t mean to!” Her eyes got big. “Grunkle Stan! You’re bleeding!”

“Will you two calm down?” he shouted more in frustration than anger. “Get the first aid kit.”

While they scampered off Stan made his way to the kitchen, using a dish towel to stem the blood coming out of the wound. It wasn’t too bad yet because the arrow was still in, but he knew blood would gush out when it was removed. He hissed in pain as he wiggled the shaft a little, checking to see how deep it went. It didn’t seem to have hit the bone, so that was good. Mabel had hit him with her grappling hook a couple times before but those were wounds he could walk off. Crossbows and arrows were another more dangerous story. _Who even gave her that thing anyway?_ He thought angrily. 

There was the sound of Dipper and Mabel explaining what happened to someone in the hall and Stan knew it was his brother before he even stepped through the kitchen door. “That looks pretty serious,” Ford said, his owlish eyes big behind his cracked glasses. “Let me take a look at it.”

Stan turned aside, keeping his wounded arm away from his brother’s touch. “Ford,” he growled. “What were you thinking giving Mabel a crossbow?”

Ford didn’t even try and deny it. “It was for a mission I gave her. There was a unicorn and…look what matters is I had a good reason.”

“You don’t just give kids weapons, poindexter,” he snarled.

“Says the man who gave her a military grade grappling hook.”

“That’s different.”

Dipper and Mabel gazed at them with big worried eyes. Even Soos had heard the commotion and come into the kitchen. Stan had a whole string of complaints lined up to shoot at his brother, but he didn’t want to argue in front of the kids so he swallowed the bitter words and looked away. “Whatever, you know what? Nevermind. Hows about you go back to whatever nerd thing you were working on? I can take care of this myself.”

Before Stan could do anything Ford took the first aid from Dipper and put a friendly but firm hand on Stan’s good shoulder. “You know you can’t get that out by yourself, so just hold still.”

“Is it going to hurt?” Mabel asked. 

“Are you sure you can get it out?” Dipper added. 

“I’m with Dipper, dude,” Soos agreed. “Maybe we should take him to the hospital or something.”

“Absolutely not,” both Stans replied vehemently. 

Ford sighed. “Look, I have plenty of experience treating these kinds of things, now will you all please leave? I need to concentrate.”

The three of them left with great reluctance and Ford went to work on the arrow. Stan had a troubled look on his face, his mouth turned downward in a deep frown. “I shouldn’t have yelled at Mabel,” he grumbled. “Poor kid’s probably in tears right now.”

Ford broke off the shaft of the arrow and sterilized a knife from the drawer with a swab of disinfectant. “You spoil her,” he replied. 

“What would you know?” his brother shot back. “It’s not like you’re ever around to know what I do or don’t do. Besides, the kids’ sensitive, something you don’t seem to know about anymore.”

“She needs discipline, something you never knew anything about. If you didn’t baby her so much she might be a little more careful like her brother.” 

“Yeah, thanks dad,” Stan spat.

It was the lowest insult either of them could deliver, but Ford got his revenge when he cut into skin around the wound. Stan shouted in pain but didn’t dare pull away. “Besides I don’t really think the one responsible for this should be giving me parenting advice,” he growled through teeth gritted in pain. The comment was partially how he felt and partially a cheap tactic to keep his mind off the pain.

Ford removed the arrowhead and pushed the dishtowel on the wound to stem the rapid bleeding while he dug into the pockets of his coat. “I don’t claim to know anything about parenting,” he replied with a false calm. “And neither do you so stop acting like an expert because from what I can tell you’re doing a terrible job.” He pulled a device out of his trench coat and pressed it to the wound, a soft hiss emitting from the machine as it injected something into the skin. Stan stopped scowling and blinked in surprise as the throbbing pain ebbed away. 

“It’s something I invented,” Ford explained as he threaded a needle. “It stops the bleeding temporarily and numbs the surrounding area. You’re welcome.”

“Why didn’t you do that before you cut it out of me, then?” Stan roared. 

“You distracted me.”

Stan pouted in silence as Ford stitched him up, upset that his brother had gotten in the last word. “I’m not a bad parent,” he mumbled as Ford finished and trimmed the thread. 

“What?” Ford asked. 

“I’m not a bad parent,” he repeated louder. “Yeah maybe the kids get into a bit of trouble and I don’t exactly stop them most of the time but I’m clearly doing a better job than you.” Stan jabbed his brother in the chest with an accusing finger. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ford sputtered. 

“Just last week the twins were dangling off a cliff and who was there to save them? Me. You were wrapped up in your mysteries and monsters and if they had been left in your care you probably wouldn’t have even noticed anything had even happened to them.”

“I had important research,” Ford justified. “For the safety of the family—”

Stan gave a harsh loud laugh. “Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, Sixer. Just keep on putting your dumb research before your family—as usual. I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”

“Well at least I don’t have a criminal record from here to New Jersey,” Ford retorted, bristling in anger. 

“Well at least I didn’t shove the only friend I had out of my life!”

“You did that to yourself!”

“So what? I’m just going to be held accountable for one mistake that supposedly ruined your life for the rest of mine?”

By this time Soos and the twins had heard the shouting and hovered outside the kitchen to hear what was happening. There hadn’t been any real fighting between the Stans since Ford had come through the portal meaning the rest of the family didn’t know what to do other than listen and hope for it to die down. 

“Yes,” Ford shouted. “Because you’re selfish, irresponsible and don’t know how to do anything but get yourself and others in trouble.” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t even know why these kids were entrusted to you!”

“Because their parents trust me.”

“Something you don’t deserve from anyone, least of all them.”

Stan’s face fell, some of the fight going out of him. “Wha-what’s that supposed to mean?” he stammered, a sense of panic rising up in him. 

“I know you lied to me Stan—again. What? Do you think I got twelve PhDs and can’t do math? Of course Shermy isn’t the grandfather of those kids. You are! And I know you abandoned your son because you couldn’t handle being a parent anymore than you can handle it now.” With each word he advanced on his brother, frustration and anger pouring out of him like toxins. Stanley backed away from him, wordless and terrified that he had been found out. “And if you had any respect for those kids and your son you would send them home on the next bus out of here!”

“Grunkle Stan, what is he talking about?”

The sound of Dipper’s voice made Stan’s heart drop and he looked to see the twins and Soos standing in the doorway, confusion and shock on their young faces. 

“Yeah why did he say you abandoned your son?” Mabel asked. “You don’t have a son, do you?”

“I…Kids, I didn’t…” Stan couldn’t find the words through his panic and fear. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, he thought in frustration. They were never supposed to know about this. At least, not while I was alive.

Ford’s face filled with regret and he looked from his brother to the kids. It had felt good to finally confront his brother about this, but he had never intended the kids to find out this way. He cursed himself silently for letting his temper get the better of him. “It’s nothing,” he insisted. “We were just arguing and it got out of hand. Whatever you heard it wasn’t…I mean I didn’t mean to…”  
But none of them seemed to be paying attention to Ford and all eyes were on his twin. Stan’s heart pounded faster and faster and he could feel some of the stinging pain come back as Ford’s anesthetic wore off around his stitches.

“Grunkle Stan, you promised no more lies,” Dipper yelled, his little hands forming fists. 

“Technically, I never agreed to that,” Stan replied. 

“Seriously?” Dipper snapped. “You’re seriously not going to explain why Great Uncle Ford just said our dad is your son?”

Mabel’s eyes grew big and sparkly. “Does that mean you’re actually…our grandfather?”

Waving his hands in a calm-down motion, Stan scowled. “Alright, now everyone just settle down.” He sat back down on the stool and sighed deeply, the weight of 40 years of running from the truth crashing down on him like an avalanche of guilt and regret. “It’s true, I lied about Shermy being your grandfather. It’s just I knew that your parents never talk about me much so you wouldn’t know the difference.”

“But why lie?” Mabel asked, resting her little hands on his knee. “Why didn’t you just tell us?”

“Well I was pretending to be Stanford for one,” he started. 

“Then why didn’t you tell us in the portal room?” Dipper demanded. 

Stan fiddled with his hands, hunching over to become smaller. Ford recognized the body language from when they were kids. He knew what Stan was going to say before he even opened his mouth. 

“I guess I was ashamed,” he admitted. “I mean, Carla left me and honestly I knew I was no good for her or your dad so I stayed out of their lives.” He shook his head. “Maybe it was for the better, maybe I shoulda stuck around, I don’t know, I just wanted them to be happy. I wanted to tell you kids from the first day you came here but if your parents knew the truth well…” He glanced at Ford. “They probably would have had you on the next bus home.”

Dipper and Mabel shared a glance. Mabel’s face was filled with concern and uncertainty but Dipper was filled with anger and betrayal. Even after all that had happened, Stan was still keeping secrets from them. This would was worse than the portal, worse than the journals. This was too personal, too close to home. He looked away from Mabel’s pleading eyes. This was too unforgivable. 

Stan’s eyes were downcast as well. “Maybe it was just selfish of me to keep it from you kids,” he admitted. 

The twins opened their mouths to speak but were cut off by a trembling voice behind them. “You were selfish,” Soos declared. 

“Soos?” the twins asked in surprise. Stan looked up with such shock it was like he had been slapped. 

“How could you just…leave your son like that?” His voice shook but despite his watering eyes there was true malice in his tone. “I can’t believe you would…you would do something like that!” Turning away he stormed out of the shack. 

Mabel made to go after him but Ford stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Leave him be.”

“For once, Ford is right,” Stan said. “I’ll go talk to him.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “Crazy kid,” he grumbled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for part 2 everyone. The feels train is coming to the station so buckle up. Grunkle4Grandpa centric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fluffy happy moments to round off the angst.

No one ever sets out to find a father figure, but when Soos was hired at the Mystery Shack, he quickly discovered that he had inadvertently done just that. 

Stan wasn’t an easy man to read. He was gruff, rude and candid to a fault, often pointing out things that people would prefer to have left unsaid. But even after complain about Soos’ clingy nature and ordering the kid to go home already he would amend his request by insisting he needed to go the store and wanted Soos to carry the bags because he was old and couldn’t be expected to do everything himself. 

These sorts of errands made the rest of the town begin to associate Soos with the Mystery Shack and Stan, since the young teen would be seen following Stan around everywhere when he came into town and practically lived at the Shack. One time in high school a teacher asked Soos if Stan was his father. He had been embarrassed by the question, having to explain he just worked for him, but deep down he liked the idea of being Stan’s son. For all his faults and questionable business methods, Stan had given Soos more love and attention than his birth father ever afforded him. 

In his quiet moments, especially on his birthday, Soos would long for his real father, sometimes wondering what he had done to make the man not want to be around him. At times the thoughts would make him sad, others made him fill with rage and frustration. Soos was a soft, gentle person so these fits of anger couldn’t be sustained for very long, so instead the anger festered in his subconscious, a dormant, unexpressed rage that his father never found time to even visit his only child. 

Faced with the truth of Stan’s identity, that dormant monster that he didn’t know he was keeping reared its head and dominated his emotions like never before. Stan could be reckless, inconsiderate and downright rude, but he wouldn’t have ever thought him incapable of doing his family the same evil that had been done to Soos. 

Soos stormed out of the shack, throwing his hat down in anger. At first he couldn’t believe it, but hearing Stan admit to his lie, lots of things fell into place. He remembered coming into the shack one day, around Christmas time to find Stan happier than he had ever seen him. The large man practically bounded over to him, telling him with a huge grin how his nephew had sent him pictures of his great niece and nephew and had even invited him to spend the holidays with them. He showed off the pictures with great pride. Soos had never seen him so happy so he was quickly swept up in the excitement as well. 

When he told his abuela about it, she commented how it was a little strange Stan would be so excited about the whole thing. “It’s almost like it’s his grandchildren,” she pointed out. Soos agreed since his abuelita kept every photo of him on display in house, but in his good nature, Soos had given it no thought. Stan was a lonely old man who lived in the woods, of course he would be happy to have a great nephew or niece to visit during the holidays.

Soos sat on the old stump usually used for chopping wood and scowled at the ground. He cursed himself for being so blind, so quick to forgive and so easily deceived by Stan’s greatest lie.

He remembered sitting on the stump, scowling and pouting on his first birthday after getting hired at the Mystery Shack. Stan noticed immediately but instead of scolding Soos for slacking off, like he normally would have done, he came over and sat on the grass next to him. 

“Somethin on your mind kid?” he asked. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Mr. Pines.”

“Ok.” Instead of prodding him for answers like other adults did, Stan sat there in silence until the sun had set and Soos’ sadness had passed. Stan didn’t try to offer the usual words of encouragement Soos was tired of hearing, and instead ruffled Soos’ hair and plopped a baseball cap from the gift shop onto his head. “You’re a good kid,” he declared. “Don’t let people get you down.” 

In the present Soos watched the sun make its way up the sky. Was anything Stan said genuine? Or did he just use Soos as a way to make himself feel better for leaving his son behind? Did his own dad have a stand-in son as well? Just some poor gullible kid he suckered into believing he cared about him? The thought made him feel sick.

Stan stepped outside and spotted the fallen baseball cap. Picking it up he felt his guilt and shame overwhelm him. Maybe he should go back inside and let Soos be. But then he brushed his doubts aside and braced himself for the worst. This was his mess and he was going to make it right—somehow. Walking over to the stump where Soos sat, he cleared his throat. Soos stiffened at the sound but didn’t look at him. 

“Hey kid,” Stan started.

Scooting so his back was to him, Soos scowled. 

Undeterred, Stan sat down in the grass next to him. A tense silence filled the space between them and Stan fidgeted with the cap with nervous hands. When he couldn’t stand the hateful silence anymore Stan spoke up. “Look, I know you’re mad.”

Soos made a grunt of acknowledgement and didn’t look up. 

“I told a lot of big lies about a lot of things, but I did what I had to.” When he made no response, Stan plowed ahead. “I know how this looks, but you don’t know what kind of pinch I was in back then. Carla wouldn’t even let me visit the kid and I knew he would grow up without me. I told myself I was ok with it, but I wasn’t. I was pissed to hell!”

A wave of anger washed over him and he clenched his fists. He and Carla were never even married which meant he had no claim to the baby whatsoever in the sight of the law. So in the end he was forced to do what he did whenever things didn’t go his way—move along.

“Anyways,” Stan continued, letting his hands go slack. “When I took Stanford’s name, I guess you could say I saw the silver lining to the situation; I could talk to my son for once, have him visit me. I even got to go and see Dipper and Mabel’s birth. When I saw those two little twins for the first time I thought I would start crying. I mean think of it—Stanley Pines, a grandpa.” Forgetting his anger for a moment, Soos turned to look at Stan. The old man appeared lost in his thoughts, staring at the grass with an expression of sadness but also of fondness. “It was nice but I would be lying if I said it didn’t kill me every time I looked my son in the eye and pretended to be my brother.” He looked up and met Soos’ eyes. “I meant what I told you and the kids down in the basement—everything I’ve ever done has been for this family. My kid may not have known it, but his father was there for him. Maybe I got there ten years late with a fake name, but I was there.”

His determined look dissolved into self-conscious doubt and Stan looked down. “If you don’t forgive me, I get it. Your old man wasn’t much of a dad and maybe I deserve to be lumped in with him, but I just wanted to be clear about why I did what I did.”

Soos stared at him with shock. He hadn’t expected this sort of candid conversation from Stan. Taking his loss of words as a sign he was still mad, Stan stood up and dusted himself off. “I guess I’ll leave you alone then.”

He turned to leave and Soos leapt to his feet. “M-Mr. Pines!” he cried. 

“Huh?” Stan grunted, pausing. 

“D-do you…remember when you started driving me home from school?” Soos stammered, looking down at his hands.

Caught off guard by the question, Stan blinked in confusion. “Y-yeah, I think so, you were fourteen, weren’t cha?”

“Yeah. It was because of those...those kids who picked on me. I guess I was a pretty lonely kid back then.” He remembered it like it was yesterday. He never did have very many friends and his classmates would often single him out after school, so he took the long way home by going down main street where there were lots of people. But no one was out that day because it had been raining. Before he knew what was happening there were a pair of hands pushing him from behind and the bullies cornered him in the door of a shop. He had felt helpless to stop the cruel words and crueler hits. 

“I guess I remember, sort of.” Stan remembered it better than he admitted. The scene had reminded him of his own childhood and without thinking he had stepped in. “Those kids were pretty mean to you.”

The shop front where Soos was corned was the only craft store in town and Stan had been picking up more glue for a new attraction when he noticed some commotion out front. In retrospect he probably shouldn’t have opened the door so abruptly because Soos fell backwards and hit his head hard on the tile. 

“Hey you brats,” he roared at the bullies. “You lookin’ for a fight? Come here!” When he charged them the high school boys scattered, but one of the bigger ones, the leader he had assumed, stopped in the road and puffed out his chest.  
“I’m not scared of you old man,” he shouted. 

“Oh yeah?” Picking him up with one hand he tossed the kid kicking and screaming into a nearby dumpster, weighting the lid with a broken cinder block. “Now maybe you can make some friends,” he sneered at him, cackling at his own joke. “Ha! That’s funny.”

He helped Soos up and made sure he was all right, assuring him the bully he put in the dumpster would be fine and would probably escape before trash day. Maybe. After that Stan began picking Soos up from school pretty every day could, driving him to his abuelita’s house just to be sure he didn’t get into any more trouble. He insisted he only did it because the school year was a slow time for business at the Shack and he was bored and already out driving anyways. That’s what Stan always said, but Soos and abuelita knew otherwise. 

“I guess it was pretty pointless for me to drive you home like that,” Stan admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I scared them pretty bad with the dumpster thing.”

“But I liked riding home with you,” Soos blurted out. “I remember when you drove me home that first day after saving me, I looked at you and I thought ‘wow, Mr. Pines would have been a really good dad’.”

Stan gaped at him. That certainly wasn’t something he ever thought someone would say about him. Before that moment he felt sure no one had ever looked at him thinking he would ever be good at anything. His parents certainly never thought so, his own twin even less so. His eyes misted with tears and he hastily tried to wipe them away. 

“Mr. Pines, are you crying?”

“I just got something in my eye,” he insisted. But no matter how hard he wiped the tears wouldn’t stop. “Come here.” He pulled Soos into a firm hug, thinking of no other way to express his gratitude and hide his face at the same time. Soos stiffened, shocked by the sudden show of affection and then wrapped his big arms around the man, lifting him off the ground as he squeezed him tight. 

“Woah, ok, that’s enough,” Stan cried, startled by the sensation of his feet leaving the ground. Soos didn’t appear to hear him and Stan struggled to free himself. The firm hug made his arrow wound flare up with pain and he winced. “Ow! Kid! Watch the arm!” he complained. 

“Oh, sorry.” Putting him down, Soos smiled despite himself and Stan coughed and hacked, trying to refill his lungs with air. He made a silent note to never initiate a hug with Soos again because he feared next time the young man might actually snap him in half. 

When he regained his breath, Stan picked up the baseball cap he had dropped during Soos’ bear hug. Putting it back on Soos’ head, Stan grinned at him. “You’re a good kid.”

When he reentered the Shack, Stan saw Ford had gone back to the basement, which was fine by him—he would deal with his twins’ judgmental lectures later, but there was no sign of Dipper or Mabel. “Kids,” he called, walking through the house. “Kids, hello?”

Opening the door to the attic he saw the two of them on Dipper’s bed. Mabel stopped in mid sentence and looked up. Dipper scowled and kept his gaze averted. They clearly had been talking about what they had overheard in the kitchen.

“I uh…I got Soos to come back inside,” Stan said lamely.

Dipper tucked his knees under his chin and faced the window. “Go away,” he grumbled. 

Stan could feel his heart break a little at Dipper’s tone. He remembered giving the same treatment to Ford when they were kids, down to the knees under his chin and furrowed brows. It was like being shrugged off by a younger version of himself. Ford insisted Dipper was just like him—smart, cautious, talented—but when Stan looked at him there was always the slightest glimmer of himself in the sweaty child. It was to be expected—Dipper was his grandson after all.

Stepping into the room, Stan sat across from them on an upturned crate. “Look kids, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Dipper looked at the wall. “’Sorry’ doesn’t change anything.”

Mabel frowned at him. “Dipper,” she scolded. “It’s ok, I forgive you, Grandpa Stan.”

The new title made Stan’s heart jolt with shock and joy. Grandpa Stan. He could get used to that.

“Don’t call him that,” Dipper snapped, uncurling from his pouting position. “He doesn’t deserve to be called that. He doesn’t even deserved to be called our grunkle!”

His cheeks were red with anger and if his words weren’t so harsh Stan might have laughed at how ridiculous he looked with those flushed cheeks and serious expression. But his words cut right through the thin confidence he had gained from his talk with Soos and he felt raw and exposed. 

Mabel opened her mouth to protest but Stan silenced her with a hand. “It’s ok sweetie. I guess I deserve that.” He heaved a deep sigh. “Listen, I’ll tell you the same thing I told Soos—I did what I had to. Maybe I lied a little…” Dipper gave him a sharp look and he faltered. “…ok, I lied a lot, but it was that or let your dad grow up without me. I was there for him, he just didn’t know it is all.”

Unappeased by this, Dipper scowled and turned away again. Motioning for Mabel to come to him, Stan positioned her between him and Dipper, his big hands resting on her thin shoulders. “Come on Dip, look at me.” When he turned his head, Stan attempted a smile. “Pretend you’re me,” he began. 

“No.”

Stan was undeterred and continued. “And pretend that Mabel is your dad.”

She grinned at the idea. “I’m much cuter than dad,” she insisted. 

“Heh, you got me on that one,” Stan admitted. “Anyways, now let’s pretend that I’m going to take Mabel away. You’re never going to see her again and she’s never going to know who you are or what happened to you.”

Dipper’s eyes grew wide at this thought and he stared at Mabel with concern. 

“Now look me in the eye kid and tell me what you would do to keep that from happening.”

The young boy looked up at him, his gaze firm and determined. “I would do anything,” he insisted. 

“Even change your name?”

“W-well yeah.”

“Risk your life?”

“Of course!”

Stan gave him a stern look. “Even lie?”

Dipper choked on his words and struggled to hold his gaze. Eventually he looked down. “…yes.”

“Well then, I guess you and I really are related,” Stan said with a small laugh. “I’m not saying you have to stop being mad at me or that you have to forgive me, but you need to know why I did it.” He kept his hands on Mabel’s shoulders, feeling a bit of comfort at having her close. “You kids are the only family I have left. I didn’t want to lose that like I lost my brother.”

Dipper jumped down from the bed and glared at him. “Are you keeping any more secrets from us?” he asked. 

Stan looked up at him and then cracked a grin. “Ha, probably.”

The young boy looked away, remembering the dark swirling mass in the basement, his promised secret with Ford. He and Stan really were the same. “Ok.”

“What? That’s all I get?” Stan sputtered. “Just an ‘ok’?”

“Yes,” Dipper replied, crossing his arms with a stubborn frown. 

“And,” Mabel added. “You have to sing another apology song!”

Stan put up his hands in protest. “Now hold on, who said I was apologizing? I didn’t apologize. I just was explaining. Yeah, that’s it, explaining. No apologies here!”

“I’ll get the camera!” Dipper cheered. 

“I’ll get the sparkly jumpsuit!”

“No, wait, KIDS!”


End file.
